Wednesday, February 9, 2011

The Dungeon Master Cut His Hand Off

Amongst Goblins and Trolls

I arrived promptly for the event. I was directed to the wall-eyed referee. Two was not a quorum. The ref explained that few came to this game and he had not prepared. The pirates' din drowned his mumbled monotone. He told how he had severed his hand in a stump-splitter. He named the price of repair.

The Castle of Dreams

This castle whereonto I fleeWhen life and time hang wearily.Yet though so far, 'tis strangely nigh:Within the breathing of a sighOne gains the walls secure and highOf the castle of dreams.

Divinely beautiful and great,Of pearl each dome and tower, and gate,It stands, a hold of kingly state.There gyving Time and Space are not,And cares of Life are all forgot.No breath of restless change is broughtTo the Castle of Dreams.

I walk each wondrous court and hall,Their varied treasures mine at call,For there I am the lord af all.If gold and gems of land and sea,And broad estates were offered me,I would not take them for the keyOf the Castle of Dreams.